The Stars Above, The Earth Below
by alwayswritewithcoffee
Summary: Two standalone works of how Kate Beckett discovers the 'Raging Heat' dedication. No spoilers for season seven. Complete.
1. The Stars Above

_A/N: Two-shot that came from reading the dedication for 'Raging Heat'. I am calling them 'companion' pieces because while the same premise, there is a different setting and outcome for both. _

* * *

Three days from the holiday weekend, Gina Cowell is not who she expects to find hovering on the other side of her door. But she's there, dressed to the nines and impeccably put together with a cool stare and a handbag that costs more than Kate makes in a week.

"Kate, do you have a minute? I need to talk to you," she says, breezing right past her into the loft with a familiarity that only comes from someone who once called the loft home. And though it should probably ruffle her feathers, Kate doesn't feel anything except a lingering curiosity.

By the time she's closed the front door, Gina has dropped the bag and pulled a thick stack of pages from the depths. There's no effort to conceal what it is, not with the title RAGING HEAT stamped in bold letters across the front.

Castle's last complete book. The one he had worked on until the early morning hours in the weeks leading to the wedding, the one that he had been desperate to finish before their three-week honeymoon in the Maldives.

'No work Beckett, just play,' he had told her once when she'd found him hunched over the keys at 5 a.m., fingers typing out a steady rhythm of edits. Kate had left him to it, dropping a kiss against his cheek while she headed to an early crime scene.

Just like that, with two simple words, her heart lurches somewhere towards her throat. The knot of emotion and the prick of tears come at her fast, smacking into her with the force of a train. In the myriad of other issues and pressing matters, she's never given a thought to the book. In fact, she hasn't even read the Derrick Storm novel that came out a couple of months ago.

Kate takes a moment, pressing her eyes closed against the emotional surge, sucking in a long breath of air to find some balance and clarity. It's not that she cares so much for Gina to see her emotional, but that sometimes it all rises up and strikes with a heavy blow that leaves her disoriented.

"The book is finished," Gina begins without a preamble, her voice solid and sure despite the reluctance that swims in her eyes, "Rick did some of his best work in here, and we had already decided on a release before..." the sentence goes unfinished, the implication of his unknown status rising heavily between the two women.

"September," she supplies the month automatically, her brain hedging a little on which date exactly. "One of the reasons we moved the wedding up." A rather small reason, but still a valid one. Kate's just proud she can say wedding without a waiver in her voice.

"Right," Gina says, glancing down at the pages resting in her hands, "well, under the circumstances, I thought you, Alexis or even Martha might want to write something in his honor. Acknowledgements were always a speciality of his, usually as well thought out as the books themselves."

The pause stretches on then, the blonde shifting her weight from one Christian Louboutin peep toe to another before she dives into it. "If this is his last book, I didn't think it'd be right to put it out there without some proper farewell. Of course, I can write something but the three of you really should get the choice of it."

It takes an incredible effort to hold back from snapping at Gina, to insist that his last book is an unfathomable situation that will only arrive decades from now. But Kate's always been logical, always looks for the evidence before drawing a conclusion and even though it breaks her heart she can admit that truth to herself.

Castle might never come back, though she will never stop looking and hoping.

* * *

It takes a week for the three of them to decide, and both Alexis and Martha defer to Kate. Nikki is as much hers as Castle's, a central part in their love story and partnership.

The manuscript is still where she left it, front and center on the glass topped desk in the office with only a thin layer of dust to indicate how long its been resting there.

She's settled on the couch with a glass of wine when she flips away from the cover page, apprehension and grief curling in a bitter mix in her gut. In some ways, reading Nikki and Rook's journey has never been easy because its always closely reflected their own rocky path. This isn't the first time she's read Castle's words with the idea that she might never see him again, either.

It's just the first time that the assurance he's still safe and sound isn't there for comfort.

The deep cleansing breath does very little to ease her nerves, her eyes roving over the page to take in the dedication that pushes the wind right out of her.

_'To KB - the stars above us, the world at our feet.'_

There's a measure of familiarity to Castle's writing process, and she's known for years that the last thing he writes is the dedication and the acknowledgements. His two bookends, a story of his personal life embedded within the pages of a fictional world.

The first time he'd told her that Kate had rolled her eyes at him. Now she does her best to stifle the sob that breaks from her throat. It cuts into her like a knife; those nine words that are so neatly scrawled onto the front of the manuscript. The last thing that Castle ever wrote, one final declaration of love before it all went horribly, painfully wrong.

Stopping the hot surge of tears is a useless activity, two of them already staining the neat typeface that bear the words that are embedded in her memory. The words he'd used to convince her that their rooftop venue was perfect, that writer's brain conjuring the perfect phrase to ease her worries and her fears; to end the brutal and nearly unbearable search for the place to house their perfect wedding.

The subtext radiates forever. It's a promise of always.

It isn't the first time she's unleashed her emotions over the ordeal, and she's sure it won't be the last, but the words strengthen her resolve even as the tears blur her vision and obscure the single sentence.

She'll get him back, they'll have their wedding.

Forever and always are coming.

Just not today.


	2. The Earth Below

Writing was helping him cope. A string of senseless words and phrases, glimmers of stories that served to exorcise the demons in the dark and the questions that still had no answer. In two weeks, he had nearly filled up a brand new Moleskine with the words, writing by hand for the soothing calm that the steady clack-clack of computer keys couldn't give him.

None of it would likely ever see publication, Kate knew that, but she couldn't deny the weight that eased from her shoulders whenever she caught him hunched over the pages, the firm grasp of his fingers around a pen as the words poured out.

It comforting, normal in a world where things still seemed turned upside down and inside out.

Having him back, having him safe, it was only part of the story. The most important part, of course, but the recovery, the fragile rebuilding of the broken pieces of both Castle's confidence and their life together, that was going to take time.

Rick had called it navigating through choppy waters, given her a waning smile when she'd confessed her fear of leaving him for the precinct. She'd used a chunk of vacation days that had been reserved for their honeymoon, had been ready to call up every piece of personal and sick time to spend with him.

She hadn't admitted that she was scared he'd disappear again. He had known, read the secret like the books that his hands and mind painstakingly create to share with the world.

But, first, Castle shares them with her.

Since the printing of _Naked Heat_, she's received the first edition to come off the press; Castle's silent apology for omitting her the first time round. Over the years they've been delivered to various places - the precinct, her apartment, the unfortunate courier assigned to deliver _Deadly Heat_ had been forced to wait outside the Attorney General's office for hours when he'd been denied entrance with an unsecured package.

She had cried in the car after reading the dedication, slumped down in the seat with a pain radiating through her chest at just how much she missed the man who had penned the words. It'd had all bubbled up, the loneliness and the job pressure, the dread that still coiled deep in her stomach that this indeed had been a mistake.

He had talked her out of coming home, quiet, reverent words that had pieced her back together bit by bit until she'd fallen asleep to the rumble of them; Nikki's latest adventure, another chapter in their own story, clutched tightly to her chest.

The box had been presented to her without preamble; same cardboard casing bearing Gina's looping cursive and the dominant Black Pawn Publishing logo. But she'd resisted the urge to tear the box open and devour the words.

The words were a part of the man, and she'd gone too long without him so it made sense to trade Nikki and Rook's story to live in her own wonderful, generous world, lose herself in the taste and feel of the man who is no longer half-ghost and memory, but flesh and blood.

But he's now writing; muttering under his breath and utterly lost to the words that have overwhelmed him. She's used to it; even loves it. Right now she cherishes it because words are Castle's greatest gift, the thing that places his world to rights when she, Alexis and Martha cannot reach him.

The spine of the book cracks when she opens it, the glue and binding stretching for the first of many readings. It even smells new, the pages sharp and crisp, a tiny hint of parchment and ink embedded into the fabric of the paper. It makes her smile, sink down further into the overstuffed cushions on the couch; toes curling over a broad thigh that is nothing but a hard plane of muscle.

That one gesture pulls him from his world, hooded eyes bleeding way into that crooked little-boy smile that always has her heart skipping a beat. The glossy cover is lying on the coffee table, leaving only the black hard cover embossed with silver etching. Plain wrappings, but unmistakeable nonetheless.

"Go back to your writing, Castle," she chides him softly, blushing under that quizzical gaze that brings her delight. He's here to smirk at her, to make her laugh and if that isn't a miracle, Kate isn't sure what is.

"Can't," his response is quick, the notebook in his hands falling uselessly to the floor so they can take up residence on her body. Gentle touches, hesitant touches that tease her grin ever wider as she flips past the title page, the copyright, and onto the dedication.

_'To KB - the stars above us, the world at our feet.'_

It's beautiful, and breath taking, but there's something missing. The punch line of the joke, the context of the clue; none of it diminishes her joy at having another piece of work dedicated to her, or shadows the complete awe brimming in her eyes but there's also confusion. She doesn't understand what it means.

And, as always, he reads her, remains in sync and in step.

"I said that to Alexis, about the rooftop venue," he admits, a light blush painting his cheeks a soft pink; uncharacteristically shy for the space of a breath, "But I had put it into my vows. Some over the top line about how you are the the guiding star in my life, and also the thing that keeps me grounded. And space, there was a joke about space travel that you were going to hate…" Rick chuckles, though there's not a lot of humor to the gesture. She can see the lines tightening on his face, the defeated slope of his shoulder.

"I never told you any of that, and by the time I got back…." the sentence goes unfinished; not that she needs him to complete it. The book was ready for print; had already gone to the press by the time everything settled.

"I don't care," Kate whispers, again tossing the book aside in favor of pulling him towards her, "I love you, I love this, and I'm going to hear those vows, Richard Castle. You and I? We're getting married, and its going to be wonderful."

"That's good," he says between the press of her lips, the initial chaste burst of contact quickly burning bright and hot with the promise of more, "Because I'd really like the next book to be dedicated to Kate Castle."


End file.
